For One Day
by Cheeky Slytherin Lass
Summary: A silly tradition allows Susan to have a break from being a kitchen servant for a day and exchanging labor for luxury. She has the chance to court Prince Draco. But what hope does she have when her prince is already set to marry another?:: Royalty!au


_Written for the Days of the Year Challenge (Three Kings Day: Write a Royalty!AU), Ultimate Patronus Quest (Orangutan: Write an AU of your choice), and Write Something Random (DracoSusan, yellow, white, tempting offer)_

* * *

Everyone is absolute giddy as they receive their slices of cake. "Can you imagine?" Hannah giggles. "The chance be be a princess for a day and court Prince Draco!"

Susan nods and takes her plate. It's a tempting offer, she supposes. A day away from the kitchens and work, a day to be more than a servant. But it's such a bittersweet thing. When the sun rises, she'll be just another kitchen girl with the taste of luxury still on her tongue. "That's a huge cake, Hannah," she says. "The chances that we would get the slice with the bean are almost nonexistent."

Hannah sighs. "Yeah. But it doesn't hurt to dream. Besides, free cake! I can almost imagine I'm one of those fancy ladies," she laughs, her free hand gesturing toward the yellow dress, so much nicer than her dull brown kitchen uniform.

Susan laughs and takes a bite of the cake. Really, the whole ridiculous ceremony might be worth it for that rare taste of sugar and cream. She closes her eyes and takes another bite, almost overwhelmed by the sweetness. A third bite, and her teeth scrape against something hard. Susan pushes the intrusion out of her mouth, grasping it between her fingers, her eyes wide as she distinguishes the bean from the mush of cake and icing. "I found it," she says softly. Then, louder. "I found the bean!"

"Well done!" King Lucius calls, clapping his together and approaching her. He takes her hand and leads her to the front of the crowd.

Susan looks at the faces of her fellow servants. Some are envious, some sad, some apathetic. Susan doesn't quite know how to feel. A break, a day of being something special, but it's temporary, so fleeting. She tries to smile as the King congratulates her again, but it feels too forced.

…

Queen Narcissa takes Susan to her chambers and sits her in a chair. "I always thought red hair was so ghastly," she says, clicking her tongue. "It never quite goes with anything, don't you think?"

Susan considers telling her that she hasn't given it much thought. Her own clothes have always been simple colors- grey, brown, black- to show her servile status.

"Ordinarily, a servant would dress a princess," the Queen continues. "But, given your background, I thought it would be best that I take you under my wing."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Susan says politely.

Queen Narcissa smiles fondly at her for a moment before pulling out a white day dress, laced with accents of soft yellow.. It's simple by royal standards, but Susan guesses that it would take at least ten years of her kitchen wages to own such a thing. "You will wear this while you walk with the prince today," she tells her. "Before dinner, I will find you something more suitable."

"Yes, ma'am."

The Queen wastes no time. She strips Susan of her dress and helps her with the petticoat and corset before putting the new dress in its place. Before Susan has a chance to glimpse at herself in the mirror, Queen Narcissa continues, pulling Susan's hair out of its plait and setting about with surprisingly skilled fingers, pulling it here and piling it in there. When Susan finally gets to look in the mirror, she is speechless.

She hardly recognizes herself. Gone are the smears of flower and the bulky kitchen clothes, the marks of her simple life. She is hardly vain, but she looks so breathtakingly beautiful, like a foreign dutchess she has seen in the castle halls.

"Remember," Queen Narcissa says, her slender fingers digging into Susan's shoulder. "This is only temporary, dear. You may look like a princess, but you are still a servant. This is merely for jest. You will do well not to forget your place."

…

Prince Draco meets her in the garden. Susan has seen him before, but only in brief glances. She's never noticed the way his eyes look like storm clouds, or the way his hair is so pale that it almost matches her skin.

"Are you sure that you're a servant?" he drawls.

"Y-yes," she says, swallowing dryly.

"Strange. I've always thought that servants were just women who were too ugly or too stupid to marry into nobility," he says, and she tenses at the verbal blow. "You're actually quite lovely."

Susan doesn't answer. She's only been in this role for an hour. Saying the wrong thing might cause them to strip it away from her already.

"My father beds servants from time to time," Prince Draco continues. "He says that when I take his place, I will understand. I suppose I wouldn't mind bedding you."

"That is hardly proper!" Susan says sharply, unable to hold her tongue.

She waits. Surely he'll mock her or summon his guards to take her away. Instead, he laughs. "Most people let me just say what I want," he tells her. "I've never had anyone challenge me. I rather like it."

Susan looks down at her feet. She wishes that this day would end. She doesn't care about being a princess or entertaining a brat. However nice the luxury might be, she has her standards.

Prince Draco stops suddenly, plucking a bright yellow and white flower from the garden. Susan watches in fascination. Fred and George, two boys from the stables, had once been beaten for picking flowers from the royal garden. And yet the rules don't seem to apply to him.

He tucks the flower in her hair with a smile. "A flower for a lovely lady," he says.

"I'm hardly a lady," she says dryly. "I'm still just a servant."

"No. Not today. Today, you are mine," he says softly.

…

Prince Draco leads her to a fountain in the courtyard. Susan has always admired it. It's marble with twin serpents intertwined, water spilling from their fanged mouths.

He sits on the ledge of it, the mist caressing his cheek. "What's it like in the kitchens?" he asks. "What's it like not being royalty? I hear that your life isn't planned out for you from the moment of your birth. Is that nice?"

Susan sits beside him, pondering. She's never given it much thought. It's hard work, and she often has to scrub herself endlessly at night to get the flour and sweat from her body. But, she supposes, it's an enjoyable life. "It's very free," she answers with a smile. "The labor can be a bit much, and the kitchens are ever so hot, but when I'm done, I can do whatever I want."

"Love whoever you want."

Heat creeps into her cheeks. She's never thought of love. A boy, Justin, has tried to court her for years, but she's never cared to take his hand. "I suppose."

"My parents have me marrying below my station," he says. "Astoria, a Countess in Bohemia."

"Is it so terrible to marry below your station?"

His lips quirk into a wry smile. "Perhaps not. Perhaps it wouldn't seem like such a chore if I had chosen her as my own bride," he says, his fingertips grazing her knuckles. "But such things are little more than a fantasy. Perhaps I even envy people like you who live without those pressures."

Susan doesn't speak. She painfully aware that his fingers continue to ghost over her skin. She shivers in spite of the warm summer breeze.

His fingers move along her arm, trailing over her neck. He tucks them beneath her chin, looking into her eyes. "You are not like the nobles. You needn't worry yourself with manners and etiquette. You're so very free, Susan. I rather like that."

He presses his lips gently to his, and Susan feels her heart flutter. Once, many years ago, she had dreamed of kissing a prince. But that was just a girlish fantasy every little girl had. She closes her eyes and opens them again, so sure that Prince Draco will disappear, that she'll find herself back in the kitchens preparing a goose for the royal family.

But he's still there, still kissing her. Queen Narcissa's warning echoes in her head. _This is merely for jest. You will do well to remember your place._

She pulls away. "I'm sorry. I can't."

Prince Draco laughs. "You are certainly the first girl to ever push away my advances," he muses.

"I am a servant, despite this glamor, my prince. I have no right to-"

"I am your prince, and one day I will be your king," he says. "Your rights are what I say they are."

She's spared having to reply as a trumpet sounds, heralding a new arrival. Prince Draco scowls. "Who on earth could that be?"

…

Countess Astoria is beautiful with her dark flowing curls and gentle blue eyes. Her perfectly painted lips smile as introductions are made.

"I thought that you weren't set to arrive for another three days," Prince Draco says.

"Father insisted that we not rest. He says that I wouldn't want to miss this special Bean Festival," she answers, her eyes falling on Susan. "And who is this? We've not had the pleasure."

"This is Susan Bones," Queen Narcissa answers. "Merely a servant girl."

"Are all of your servants dressed so finely? How quaint."

"All part of the festival," King Lucius laughs, resting his hand on the small of Susan's back. "The girl has won a day of luxury. In the morning, she will be back to her old life."

Astoria looks Susan up and down, a coldness in her expression. "How unfortunate for her. A dreadful life to return to. Now, Draco, my love, I wish to see this fountain you've written to me about."

Prince Draco nods. As he takes Astoria by the hands, his eyes flicker to Susan, and Susan can almost feel an apology in the glance.

…

Susan isn't in the mood to dance, and yet several gentlemen insist on taking her to the floor. She smiles politely through it all, but she can't stop her gaze from wandering to Prince Draco who sits beside Astoria with a bored expression.

"Your heart should not want what it cannot have," Blaise, the Duke of Kent, her latest dance partner, says when he catches her looking. "A prince could never marry a common girl."

"My heart does not belong to the prince, I assure you," she says softly.

"Oh, you can lie to yourself all you want, my dear," he says smoothly, an amused smirk playing at his lips. "But I know a heartsick woman when I see one."

Susan doesn't answer. It isn't good manners to speak of such things, especially with a man that she hardly knows.

"I am not bound by such strict bonds," he says. "Should I take you as my wife, there would be little scandal. I could give you a life that Prince Draco cannot, a life better suited for you than one of servitude."

"You are proposing marriage to me?" Susan asks, coming to a stop and fanning herself as she tries to make sense of his words.

"Courtship first, of course. Then, yes. Marriage. My mother fears that the Zabini line will end with me. She has put much pressure on finding a bride," he explains. "But I have little interest in these spoiled, giggling little girls. I can see the fire in you, and I wish to capture it."

"I will have to consider it."

"Consider quickly. I return to Kent in a fortnight, and I would like to have my future bride at my side," he says before coming to a stop and bowing, releasing her hand and disappearing in the crowd.

…

"What was it like?" Hannah asks as Susan returns the chamber that they share. "Oh, I saw you! You looked like you really belonged!"

Susan brushes through her hair, shaking her head. She doesn't want to talk about it, not even with her best friend. She hadn't belonged. She was just a servant in a lady's clothing. "It was lovely," she says dismissively.

A knock at the door spares her from having to answer more questions. Susan hurries over, opening it. "Prince Draco," she hisses, covering herself, painfully aware that she is in nothing but her dressing gown.

"Sorry to intrude so late," he says. "But you hurried off so quickly after the ball that I didn't have time to speak to you."

Susan feels the heat in her face. She wishes he would leave. The last thing she needs is a rumor to start of how he had visited her in the servants' quarters.

"My father has moved the marriage up. Apparently he is ill, and I will take the throne sooner than expected."

"I am sorry to hear that," she says, wondering why he would divulge such personal information with a servant.

"I am to marry Astoria before the week is out, and I've come to ask something of you," he continues. "I cannot have you the way that I would like. But I would like to take you as my mistress."

Susan shivers. She wraps her arms around herself, trying to contain it. It's tempting. She has come to care for the prince in such a short time, and yet it is too painful. Bedding him, knowing that he belongs to another will hurt too much. Belonging to him and yet not… It goes against everything she's ever known of love.

"I am sorry, Prince Draco. But I've received another offer tonight," she says quietly. "I leave for Kent in a fortnight."

Her words seem to strike him. He looks away, swallowing. "I see. Then I wish you nothing but happiness. Now, I bid you goodnight."

…

"It will be a lovely life," Blaise tells her. "You'll see."

Susan nods, climbing into the carriage. Her gaze flickers to Prince Draco as it so often has lately. Prince Draco who stands beside Princess Astoria. Prince Draco whose eyes swim with regret. Susan looks away quickly. "I look forward to our new beginning," she says quietly, her voice breaking.


End file.
